There was something satisfying in knowing that she was wearing something that belonged to him. His jacket. That meant that if there were any other men to wander by, they would believe that she was his. He would pretend that she was too. Shooting them prideful looks, daring them to make a move on something that he didn't even realistically have right to call his own. Pretending would be all right. Just for a little while.
Sam didn't know which was worse: his feelings toward Faith or the fact that he knew that they were wrong. Most would likely frown upon it all, he figured. Sam had fallen out of love with Heather long before they had broken up, but did that truly justify the way that he felt now? Could someone fall for another person so quickly after leaving another that they supposedly cared for? He was so conflicted on the inside about all of it that Sam didn't know what to do. Whatever the case, it certainly didn't matter to anyone outside of himself about what he did. Sam planned on doing nothing. He would let the feelings die, right along with the other parts of himself that he had been willing to watch wilt and fade away.
"Hugs are always welcomed," Sam replied, hands sliding into the pockets of his hoodie, "welcomed and encouraged. On a daily basis, even."
Stepping around a scooter parked next to a store on the sidewalk, Sam shrugged. "I told you that I'd be here for you, remember? That's not gonna change." A faint hint of amusement was given. "Besides, I want to play with the nitrogen. The geek in me demands it."